


Addictions and Attitudes

by Ezbae



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Modern AU setting, Potential NSFW (sex), Referenced Sex under the influence of drugs (not actually described)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12916641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezbae/pseuds/Ezbae
Summary: Ezreal is a young man fresh out of college and managing on his own. His life is pretty lacking in excitement until the day a mysterious thump sounds outside of his door. One thing leads to another and before he knows it, the strange guy who passed out on his doorstep becomes someone he cares for enough to try to save from his own choices. Draven is troubled, stubborn and trapped within his addiction but Ezreal is determined to save whatever remains. And to top it all off, complicated feelings get thrown into the mix and make it all the more difficult.





	1. What's That?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GodfuckerKayn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodfuckerKayn/gifts).



> This is a story I have actually been hoarding for over a year at least. I have the first like...10 chapters written out, but there's no conclusion to the story as of yet. I didn't want to leave it set and I figure it's a good enough story to share so here it is! It's also something a friend of mine gideongave helped with, since it's their Draven and my take on Ezreal that are in this story! ovo I hope you all l like it.

Ezreal was lounging about, sapphire hues fixated on the apparently riveting words of a book he gripped tightly in his hands. He was sprawled across the couch on his back, one leg hanging off the edge while the novel was held above his face in a position that likely would not last as his arms would tire quickly. This, however, ended up not being the case when he heard steps outside of his apartment door and then a rather hefty thud as if someone had left something there.

The footsteps never continued off though and the blonde cocked a curious brow. He clapped the book closed with a satisfying thump and set it aside before forcing himself to his feet. Arms stretched upwards, attempting to loosen stiff muscles so that the walk to the door would be less uncomfortable. Ezreal shook off the bodily fatigue and strode over, yanking open the door with a casual air...at least until he saw that there was an unconscious man lying right in front of his threshold.

A long pause saw Ezreal simply staring in a mixture of confusion and surprise, not quite certain where to go from there. It wasn’t every day you found some guy passed out on your doorstep in such a way. Working fingers through wild blonde strands, the young man considered what he should do, knowing there was no way for him to easily pick the stranger up. He knew it was his neighbor, but he wasn’t entirely positive on which apartment he lived in and so could not simply go asking around. He didn’t even know the man’s name.

And so he did the only thing he could think of to do;

He dragged the man into his house and with several minutes of struggle, managed to set him up on the couch. Being close was enough for Ezreal to smell he had been at some sort of hard party. It was a scent that made him wrinkle his nose even though he couldn’t quite place what it was beyond smoke and booze. Maybe he had gone to a club or something, you didn’t have to do anything to smell like it sometimes. Besides the alcohol anyway.

Ezreal went about his day and waited for the stranger to wake up.

This didn’t take long and happened while Ezreal was in the middle of cooking his first meal of the day--having unhealthily skipped breakfast in order to work and his eyes were tired from staring at the sketches so long.

Draven awoke with a soft grunt, working a hand through his hair as he sat up, mind hazy. He wasn’t feeling well at all, from his body to his mental state and he let out a breath.

It occurred to him that he had no clue where he was and he sat up straighter, eyes wide. Draven wracked his brain, trying to recall if he had decided to stay the night at someone else’s house but he didn’t recognize the place and he couldn’t remember what time or day it was.

Ezreal walked in at that moment, jerking in surprise when he saw that his unexpected guest was awake. There was a long and rather painful silence as the two stared at one another, Draven searching for any memory of this blonde and Ezreal waiting for him to be upset.

“What day is it?” Draven broke the silence, rubbing the space between his eyes as though he had a headache.

“Wednesday.”

“Time?”

“It’s…” Ezreal paused, shifting his grip on a small porcelain mug to pull his phone from his pocket. “...Eleven-thirty. You’ve been here for about two hours. You were passed out on my doorstep so...I pulled you in--by the way, you’re very heavy.”

Draven let out a sigh, feeling a sense of embarrassment burn in his core. He should have at least made it to his damn apartment instead of putting this kid out.

“Shit. Sorry. I’ll...be out. I gotta...call in.” He stood up and felt a notable soreness in a number of places, a few of which he knew could not be mentioned in polite conversation. Draven tried not to think about it too hard.

Ezreal bit his lower lip nervously and shuffled a bare foot against the floor.

“I made pancakes if you wanna eat before you go.” he offered, sipping from the cup he was clutching.

“Nah...Nah, I should uh...I should go.” Draven stood and every muscle in his body seemed to protest. He nearly stumbled, feeling how stiff he was from pushing himself too hard. Ezreal held out a hand as if he might steady the man, but he didn’t get close enough to do so and couldn’t move fast with his other hand holding a drink.

“Sorry for botherin’ you.” the man mumbled awkwardly as he headed for the door, feeling the blonde’s bright gaze watching his every move. “I’ll try to stay out of your way, yeah?”

He popped the door open.

“Wait.”

Draven hesitated and glanced at Ezreal.

“Name?”

“....Draven.”

“I’m Ezreal. If you need anything um... don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Sure.”

Draven didn’t plan on it. He slipped out the door and closed it quickly behind him with a click before rushing to his own apartment to change.

He could only hope his boss wouldn’t fire him.

Ezreal stood in his living room, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

There was an odd feeling in his stomach, though he couldn’t place it and he didn’t think it would be the last he saw of his odd neighbor.


	2. Money Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to balance addiction and life without losing one or the other. Draven finds he needs just a bit of help to make it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna get a bit more spicy from here. I'll put warnings in coming chapters for any content that could be uncomfortable to people, but there really isn't a whole lot of graphically detailed stuff in this story. ovo

Vice had caught up with Draven and his habits had once more pushed him into debt. His rent was due to be paid and he had nothing to pay it with. He cursed heavily under his breath, knowing it was his ridiculously high maintenance addiction that had driven him to this point. He needed that roof over his head but his irresponsibility had his entire life at risk. Jade eyes flicked around the room, unseeing as the man’s mind wracked over possibilities to make ends meet before he wound up homeless.

A face came to mind. Blue eyes framed by gold fringe, an awkward young man. One who just so happened to have offered him help if he needed it about two weeks before. Of course, Draven had never intended to take up the generosity, since literally falling unconscious on someone’s doorstep and having to be dragged into privacy had been a heavy blow to his pride, but here he was again. About to humiliate himself for the sake of survival. Money was money and if the blonde was willing, Draven had to take the chance. At this point, he didn’t think he cared what the price might be for it.

A few minutes later and he was standing at his neighbor’s door, trying to recall his name. Something with a Z in it, he was sure. Eh….Ehz. Ezreal? Yeah, that was it. Ezreal. What weird name. He knocked. Twice, with a firm hand. He waited, praying the other was home, it would be really inconvenient if he wasn’t. A minute passed in silence. He knocked again. Three times, hard. 

Muffled from the other side of the door, came a shout.

“Gimmie a sec!” Then a series of heavy steps as if someone was running, followed with a soft thud and a low curse. The door opened to reveal a flustered blonde with messy hair, clothed in a wrinkled tank top and boxers. He worked a hand through unruly locks but it didn’t do much to smooth the mess. Ezreal looked a bit surprised to see him but Draven was equally surprised to be there.

“Hey...uh...this is probably gonna sound really sudden but...I don’t suppose you could spot me some money…?” Draven asked, perhaps too directly, but he couldn’t afford to beat around the bush and be misunderstood.

Blinking, the other man, gestured for Draven to come in and though reluctant, he slipped into the tidy apartment, taking a look at it through clear eyes for the first time. It was relatively clean, but there were shelves stuffed with books and occasional trinkets. A coffee table stood in front of the couch with a cup on it and a messy sprawling of papers that upon closer glance, held various drawings. A lot of them seemed to be human skeletons. Kind of weird but not like Draven could judge.

“So...you need...money?” Ezreal repeated, offering a lazy wave of his hand for Draven to make himself at home as the blonde went and planted himself in front of the table, though not on the couch. He settled himself cross-legged, hunching over the surface in a way that made Draven’s back hurt just looking at it.

“Yeah. I’m short on rent this month. I’ll pay you back in any way you want but I really need the cash if you can spare it.” he explained quickly, fidgeting anxiously and pleading mentally that the response would be yes because it would take so much stress off. Ezreal regarded him from his seat curled over his drawings with tired blue eyes. He almost looked like he wasn’t entirely believing Draven.

“What, did you spend it all on partying?” Ezreal questioned, pursing his lips disapprovingly at the other man, a pencil clutched between slender digits. It wound up simply being repeatedly tapped against the table since no focus could be spared for drawing while a man stood in his home begging for money.

“No!” Draven said, too defensively, crossing his arms. “I just don’t have a good paying job, alright? I fell a little short and I just need a bit of help, okay? It won’t happen again.” It was difficult to not squirm under the intense scrutiny of those sapphire hues.

“I’m probably more well off than you but that doesn’t necessarily mean I have money coming out of my butt,” Ezreal said, stacking the papers and setting them aside, having given up on getting anything done. The pencil was twirled between deft digits. 

“I...I guess I can give you the money, though,” he said, unable to say no with how utterly desperate Draven looked as he stared at him, his eyes showing a bit too much white.

“What do you want in return?”

The question was odd to Ezreal in the way it was worded as if Draven was used to deals of a darker sort and the utensil he toyed with found its way to his mouth.

“Mm. Just pay me back when you can, I guess.” Ezreal shrugged. He rose from his seat and left Draven alone in the living room for a brief time. And when he returned, his hand was holding something that was mostly hidden from view.

“You need a full pay or partial?”

“Full.”

Ezreal sighed and handed over cash, straight cash, much to Draven’s surprise. It was the full amount.

“If you go off and waste it on booze or something, I will kick your ass.” Ezreal threatened, crossing his arms. Being intimidated by a man who was quite a bit shorter than himself and didn’t seem very physically strong was rather ineffective, but Draven understood the point regardless.

“Yeah, Yeah. I got you. Thanks. A lot. I really owe you. Let me know if you need somethin’ yeah?”

Ezreal shrugged it off.

“Yeah, I got it. You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, alright?”

Draven nodded and smiled.

“Thanks.”

He left Ezreal to his work, slipping out of the apartment with the largest sense of relief he had felt in a long time. 

Draven was grateful for Ezreal’s generosity and surprised that the man had so much cash just laying around. Briefly, it passed through his mind that the money might have been for his own rent, but Draven tried not to focus on that thought too long. He felt bad enough.

Ezreal hoped his kindness wasn’t misplaced, but his gut was still telling him something was off.


	3. Returning Gratitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some vague mentions of drugs, alcohol and unfortunate sexual situations, nothing graphically described.

It had taken two weeks, a few bad deeds and an incredibly risky move, but Draven had obtained the money by which to pay Ezreal back. He nestled the cash into his wallet, having counted it five times over just to be absolutely positive it wasn’t too much or too little. He was already digging himself a hole with his circle of ‘friends’. Hopefully, Ezreal would not ask where the money came from, it would be best for both of them.

Draven wound up once more on the blonde’s doorstep, nervously rubbing the back of his neck before reaching out with his other hand to give three or so solid knocks. Loud this time. He had to be sure Ezreal answered. Like last time, there was some fumbling a call to tell the waiting man to hold on just a moment and then a brief silence. A click followed and the door opened, Ezreal peeking up at the man.

He looked as though he might smile initially but then those bright blue eyes of his widened considerably and his jaw went slack. Draven had no idea what he looked like at the moment, but all things considered, it probably wasn’t the best.

“Are you okay?” Ezreal asked, clearly having to force himself to keep his voice low as he practically pulled the other into his home and slammed the door shut. Hands were on him, prodding, poking, checking. Draven winced every so often and then Ezreal grabbed his cheeks, fingers clutching tight so he couldn’t move his head. It was rather amusing considering the blonde had to stand on tiptoe to be able to reach.

“I’m fine. Just had a rough shift and then got drug out to a party is all.” He lied. Blatantly. Ezreal’s expression told him he didn’t believe him for even a second. Draven sighed under the scrutiny and gently but firmly pried those slender fingers off and pushed them back towards their owner. The smaller of the two huffed in agitation and crossed his arms.

“Anyway...I got the money to pay you back.” Draven said quickly, withdrawing the cash from his wallet and handing it over to the blonde. Ezreal’s brows rose, as if he had never expected this to be the case and Draven almost felt offended but understood. If he were in Ezreal’s shoes, he probably would have felt the same way.

“Thanks…” Ezreal murmured, surprisingly not counting the cash to ensure it was the right amount like Draven had expected him to. Draven nodded and made the move to leave, heading to the door without further ceremony.

“You’re just leaving?” came the blonde’s incredulous voice, though he wasn’t sure what he should have anticipated.

“Yeah. I got shit to do. Sorry. It’s nothin’ personal. Just wanted to make sure you got the cash while I had the means. I tend to cut it pretty close most months so I wanted to pay you back while I could.” The lies flowed easily. Yes, he wanted to pay Ezreal back but he hadn’t gotten the cash himself, not properly. He would never have had enough to pay his own rent and still pay the same amount back to Ezreal for his generosity. For some of the money, Draven didn’t think too hard about what he had done to get it. It had taken a number of filthy things and a bit of theft to manage it. Shame coiled in his gut that he was this far in the hole. He couldn’t even take care of himself. How pathetic.

His thoughts were broken by a hand grasping his wrist.

“You sure you don’t want to stay for some coffee maybe? You...honestly, you look like shit. You look like you haven’t slept in days. Like you got into a fight and it didn’t turn out well.”

Draven laughed. He was almost right. Almost. 

“I appreciate it, but I really gotta get goin’. I gotta work, ya know?”

“Fine. How do you like your coffee?”

“Uh well..I already--”

“Come on, just tell me.”

“Uh...I like dark roast with creamer…”

Ezreal nodded made a motion for Draven to stay put before disappearing into the kitchen for a number of moments. When he returned, he was bearing a thermos and a paper plate with a couple of glazed donuts on it. He offered both.

“You can keep the thermos if you want. I don’t really use it. You really look like you could use a little something. It’s not much, but...yeah. Try to take better care of yourself.” the blonde said, brows furrowed in concern for the other man. Draven took both items and regarded Ezreal with a mixture of confusion and gratitude. He appreciated the kindness, as he didn’t see much of it but he didn’t understand why the other would go out of his way like that.

“Thanks…” he mumbled, before moving to take his leave once more. Ezreal opened the door for him and watched him step out.

“Uhm...if you need anything just uh...let me know, okay?” he said, as if he needed to refresh what was already well known by this point. Draven glanced back and nodded.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Later on, Draven was still trying to sort out why anyone would be that kind to him and he couldn’t understand it.


	4. Commotion and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draven finds his prior actions do in fact have consequences on more than one front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vague mentions of violence, a bit of bruising/blood and fighting. Nothing too graphic. And so the plot thickens still. 8^)

It had started as just another quiet night, nestled in bed with a sketchbook working on some of his commissions. Some were for scientific books, others were simply works of characters people had created or things of that nature. He enjoyed those a bit more because at least there were more interesting details involved. It wasn’t quite so interesting to sketch the internals of a human body. At least, not to Ezreal, though he could do so with ease.

Then he heard a thump--the sound of a very harshly slammed door. He made him jolt, eyes going wide. It wasn’t his--the neighbors. Draven’s. Blue eyes flicked back and forth nervously as the sounds of angry voices met his ears, though too muffled through the walls to be understood. He settled his drawings aside and slipped out of bed to his living room where the wall to his apartment met the one to Draven’s and he could more clearly hear what was going on on the other side.

Still, he couldn’t pinpoint what the conflict was, words too muffled. He heard Draven’s voice though but it seemed things were only escalating and soon voices faded into clear sounds of physical violence. Ezreal slipped out of his apartment and ran over to Draven’s. His gut was taut but he rapped his fist against the door repeatedly and particularly loudly to ensure he was heard over the cacophony inside.

Abruptly the sounds stopped and there were steps coming to the door. The man who opened it wasn’t someone Ezreal recognized but he definitely looked like a rough individual. 

“Whadya want, kid? We’re kinda busy.” his voice was low and gravelly. He regarded Ezreal as one might a mild inconvenience. Ezreal glanced at the space left in the door that gave a peek into the room. He darted in, slipping under the man’s arm to assess the situation for himself. Two other men were attempting to grapple Draven to the ground and it was proving to be a struggle for them both, though they were starting to succeed. All eyes were on the blonde, including the horrified jade ones of Draven himself.

“I heard the commotion, you guys better leave. I called the police already.” Ezreal was lying, but he had his phone in his hand as if to prove the point. “I don’t care who started it or why, I have work to get to early in the morning and you’re disturbing everyone else in the building.” Again, somewhat lies, but he didn’t care. 

The men all exchanged glances and Ezreal received some sour looks but he didn’t respond to them. The strangers left quietly, though the blonde got the feeling if Draven left the building, he would likely be caught by them again. When they were gone and the door was closed behind them, Ezreal ran to Draven’s side, looking worried and perplexed. Though he had done well in the fight, he still had taken some damage as was evidenced by a bloody lip and nose, but he was a lot better off than he might have been otherwise.

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you realize the kind of shit you could get yourself into by just--” Draven couldn’t even finish the sentence, his hands gesturing vaguely and rapidly.

“Shut up and let me see your face.” the blonde retorted sharply, earning a surprised look from the other. Yet just the same, Draven complied. Ezreal let out a soft sigh as he looked over the cut on Draven’s mouth--most likely from biting into his own lip when he was punched.

“Come over to my place, I got a first aid kit there. I’ll patch you up.”

“That’s not really necessary. I’m fine.”

Ezreal stared at him with a look that very much depicted the lack of choice Draven had in the matter.

And so Draven found himself settled on Ezreal’s couch some minutes later with a very attentive blonde dabbing at his face. It stung a little, since the cotton balls were dipped in some variety of antiseptic, but the man powered through it with only a wince and a grimace.

He remained still under scrutiny, if not impatient, but after some time, Ezreal seemed satisfied with what was done and put away the supplies. 

“You should stay the night here, just to spare yourself the trouble.”

“They won’t come back, you threatened the police. They’ll wait at least until tomorrow.” 

Draven made it sound as though it weren’t a big deal and Ezreal stared at him.

“Who were those guys? What did you do to get in that sort of trouble?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s better if you don’t know.”

“Draven--...”

“I appreciate the help, but I’m going home. I’m tired and I gotta be up early tomorrow.” Draven rose from his seat and made his way to the door as he had so many times before. It was becoming a little too familiar for his liking.

Ezreal grabbed onto him, blue eyes almost desperate.

“You can’t lie to me forever.”

“I’m not lying.” --A lie, but Ezreal didn’t need to know what was really going on his life. That he was a mess of a man caught in the karma of his own foolish decisions.

A frustrated sigh came with the loosening of the hand on his arm and Draven pulled the door open. He glanced back--a mistake.

Ezreal looked so pathetic staring at him with those large blue eyes and looking as though Draven had personally affronted him.

Draven closed the door behind himself and returned to his own apartment to spend the night pondering what the future would be. 

It didn’t look particularly good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of drugs/pills. And cute nerds being cute.

Ezreal was heading out into the chill of a fall morning, his steps scuffing against the concrete as he went through the doors and let them fall shut behind him. Eyes scanned around absently, catching on a familiar shape. Draven. He seemed to be messing with something and the blonde squinted to try to see what the other man was handling but he couldn’t make it out. His path turned and he went to greet him, hoping in part, to get a glimpse of the items but they were quickly stuffed into a pocket.

“Hey!” Ezreal said, giving Draven a smile. Their last meeting hadn’t exactly ended on a positive note, but he wasn’t holding a grudge. For his part, Draven had nearly been caught with a handful of pills and the blonde had honestly scared the daylights out of him. He breathed out slowly and greeted the oblivious man with as genuine a smile as he could manage.

“Mornin’. You’re up awful early.”

“Oh, yeah. Haha. Sometimes. Have to deliver some stuff for work.” He held up a folder, stuffed pretty full of papers. He looked a bit tired but was energetic for the early hour, regardless.

“Ah. Also, thanks for last night. You should be careful, though. You don’t really need to be gettin’ involved in that shit.” Draven felt as though he were scolding--and had little, if any right to do so. He was a drug addict but he didn’t want anyone else falling into the same trap he did. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on and you probably won’t tell me,” He paused and glared pointedly at Draven. “But I fully intend to do what I can to help you. I don’t care what risk I’m taking.”

Draven’s brows rose at Ezreal’s defiance, though it only further served to make him worried. He didn’t ever intend to explain what was going on with his life, especially not with a reckless kid like this. 

“You should just give up on it. It ain’t worth that much.” 

Ezreal got the distinct feeling that Draven was more referencing himself than anything else.

“It is, though! Look, you can’t get help if you don’t ask for it. If you just sit there and wallow in it, you’ll be stuck forever! You have to reach out.” Blue eyes searched jade as if the answers to all the questions might present themselves in the bright but tired depths. Fingers tapped nervously against the soft eggshell white of a folder that appeared to have little scribbly doodles on it. Ezreal must get bored easily. Maybe he’d get bored of trying to help.

“I’m fine, kid. Really. Just uh...don’t worry about it. I get in scuffles sometimes, it happens.” Draven shrugged it off as if he hadn’t almost gotten beaten to death. Maybe he could have fought them off, but chances were they would have either beat him crippled or until he stopped breathing. The thought was somehow distant despite the very real possibility.

“Look…” Ezreal fumbled and searched his pockets until he withdrew a small pen, then slipped a sheet of paper from his folder, tearing a small piece free. On this, he jotted down his phone number and handed it over to the other man.

“If anything happens or whatever, or you just wanna...I dunno...talk.” he seemed a little awkward as he said this, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. Draven took the slip of paper and while Ezreal watched, inputted it into his phone. And just to be extra nice, he texted him right then, causing the blonde’s pocket to jingle. He smiled. Draven couldn’t help but think just how innocent this young man was.

“Maybe we should get coffee or breakfast together sometime? I can cook it, too. I mean...I dunno. It’s whatever.” Ezreal said, trying not to sound strange. Draven squinted, unsure if the blonde was flirting with him or not.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“What? No!” This followed with a huff and a very indignant look.

“I just mean to hang out, geez!”

Draven garnered some amusement out of how the blonde blushed and marched off.

“See ya, blondie.”

“Whatever!”


	6. Too Close for Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of drinking, Draven actually being drunk and a little bit of getting much too close when it's clearly not wanted. It doesn't go anywhere horrible, though.

The sound of a loud ringtone startled Ezreal out of a dead sleep and he jolted up with a snort. Blue eyes were wide and blinking as he scrambled for the flashing phone and clumsily answered the call with a voice heavy with sleep.

“Mnnyeah?”

“Heeeey, Ez. I need you to pick me up.” It was Draven’s voice on the other end, but he seemed odd like he was slurring a little and there was a ton of background noise that made it hard for Ezreal to hear him. The blonde rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes and let out a sigh. He pulled the phone from his face to squint at the time in the corner of the screen before putting it back to his ear.

It was four in the morning. Ezreal recalled having been working on a commission at around twelve. His back told him that he had fallen asleep over his desk in the midst of this project. He rubbed the stiffness from his neck and felt a mild annoyance at Draven.

“It’s four in the morning, Draven…” he said, clearing his throat to get the thickness from his voice. Draven laughed on the other end but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with him. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

“I said it’s early as fuck in the morning Draven. What the fuck are you doing?” Ezreal repeated, with some obvious edits, lips pursed.

“Aw come’on, blondie it’s alright! I just need ya to grab me real fast. I’m at the club at the far end of the street we live on. Just get me and drop me off, kay?”

“Draven are you drunk?”

“No. Maybe. Probably.” Drunk and high as hell, but he wasn’t about to say that.

Ezreal sighed heavily and rubbed the space between his eyes, feeling the headache budding there.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there soon.” he hung up and rose from his seat, stretching the tension from the stressed muscles in his back. Not bothering to throw on anything new, Ezreal threw a coat on over his tank top, slipped on a pair of shoes and headed out in sweatpants. He didn’t really care what people thought. He was tired and it was too damn early on too little sleep.

It took him only fifteen minutes to reach the club, where he parked, slipping out of the car to stand next to it so Draven could find him. He texted him to let him know he was waiting for him. Five minutes later the man appeared, looking more than a little drunk as he headed over to the blonde, a big grin on his face. Ezreal breathed sharply from his nose and pulled open the passenger’s door for Draven to get in, which he promptly did, nearly clonking his head on the car in the process. Ezreal walked around and got into the driver’s seat, still feeling grumpy about the whole affair. He was just starting the engine when Draven draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him as close as he could with the front compartment between them.

“Hey...um…” 

Ezreal could swear he smelled a little booze. He felt distinctly uncomfortable as Draven’s fingers traced the curve of his shoulder.

“Do you think you might wanna go a round?” his voice was husky when he asked and not just from whatever he was under the influence of. The hand on Ezreal’s shoulder relocated to the blonde’s thigh and he tensed up as it rubbed up and down the length of it.

“Look, Draven. I came here to pick you up, not fuck you. You wouldn’t ask me that normally, so don’t expect me to think you actually want that shit.” he pushed Draven’s hand away, urging him to keep it to himself.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I really am not in the mood for sex and especially not when you smell like a walking bar.” 

Draven had done more drugs than booze but he was too fixated on his target to correct the blonde.

“Aw, come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll make you feel so good. I’ll do anything you want, babe.” 

Ezreal jerked away when he felt lips against his ear and he turned partially in his seat to glare at Draven in the dim light.

“Draven, stop. I am not interested. Ask me again when you’re sober and I’ll think about it.” Ezreal growled, and Draven put up his hands and made a face as if the blonde was being silly to him, but he didn’t advance any further. The drive home was quiet and when they pulled back into the apartment lot, Ezreal felt a sense of relief.

Draven was good when he was sober, but this side of the man made Ezreal extremely uncomfortable and he was ready to send him off. He shut off the engine and stepped out of the car, waiting for his intoxicated guest, who stumbled out shortly after and lead the way into the building. At Ezreal’s door, he stopped and turned to look at the blonde. It was hard not to notice how his pupils were dilated. He also seemed to be on edge, too alert and a little trembly. There was a lot of color to his tanned face, but Ezreal attributed that to the alcohol he assumed the man had ingested.

“You sure you don’t wanna fuck?”

Ezreal almost threw up his hands.

“Yes, Draven. I’m sure. Go sleep it off. You’re being weird.” He unlocked his door and popped it open, eyeing Draven with annoyance. The man shrugged as if to say it was Ezreal’s loss before slinking back to his own apartment and disappearing into it.

Ezreal shook his head and headed inside, closing his door. He immediately sank himself into bed to sleep, wondering what the hell Draven’s issue was.


	7. Apologies

Draven woke the next day with a pounding headache and sore body. He groaned as he sat up--then promptly realized he was on the floor instead of the bed. Blinking, the man attempted to recollect the events from the night prior. He had decided to go clubbing, hit the booze and drugs a bit too hard, got worn out and...called Ezreal. Brows knitted together as Draven remembered being way too inappropriate with the blonde and just how disgusted he had been with the advances.

Hands pressed to the hollows of tired eyes and a lengthy groan of embarrassment worked its way out of the exhausted man. Leaving things the way they were would mean a very awkward feeling between them and Draven didn’t want to ruin the tentative friendship he and Ezreal had crafted with one another over the couple of months they had known each other just because of his ridiculous habits. God, he was terrible, forcing himself on the poor guy like that.

It would require some finessing and a few hundred apologies to start with. 

He supposed a text would be good to break the ice.

Draven: Hey...Sorry about last night….uh...how about coffee?  
Ezreal: ….  
Ezreal: I guess….  
Draven: Meet you in an hour?  
Ezreal: Sure, as long as you’re sober this time.  
Draven: Completely.  
Ezreal: Okay, see you soon.

And just as agreed, an hour later saw them meeting in the hall between their apartments, the blonde a little shifty after last night. Not that Draven blamed him, he had been a complete mess. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave an awkward smile, feeling all around terrible. 

“So...we ready or…” Ezreal broke the silence, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he looked at his feet. It was hard not to feel a little anxious around Draven after what had happened, though he was well aware that it was not a normal occurrence for him to behave that way. After all, they had interacted a number of times until this point without such problems between them, but it still made him feel a little unsafe to know that Draven did things to himself in a heavy enough degree to alter his state that badly.

“Yeah, come on.” 

The place was close enough to walk--as most of Draven’s destinations tended to be--and he led the way. Soon enough they were stepping through the doors of a nice cafe and Draven immediately headed up to place orders while Ezreal glanced around. He tended to make his own coffee because it was far cheaper than spending up to seven dollars on something like this.

The two of them settled down at a table, cradling coffee in their hands. Draven was well aware he didn’t really have the extra money to be spending in this way, but he felt far too awful to let things stand as they were. He sipped his drink, jade eyes fixed on the blonde across from him who seemed more content to toy with the edge of the cup than to actually partake of the contents.

“I don’t really know what to say.” Draven broke the silence, feeling that shame in his chest again. Ezreal glanced up and then to the side as if thinking. He exhaled audibly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It was a weird situation. But you’re back to yourself so…”

“I fucked up. I know that.”

“Why? Why do you do that to yourself?” Ezreal blurted out, halfway glaring at Draven as he clutched his coffee almost too tightly. His knuckles were white and it brought the question of just how much harder he could squeeze before they wound up with a table flooded with hot liquid.

“I just like to loosen up, sometimes. It’s usually not a big deal.” All the time, he corrected in his mind. Constantly taking drugs or drinking. 

“How many times have you done that shit to someone who might not have been able to say no like me?”

“That’s not fair, I was hardly in the mind to be making decisions like that myself! It’s not just my responsibility. I’m not a fuckin rapist, I’ll stop if someone says no but I can’t be blamed if they don’t.” It was Draven’s turn to level a glare and Ezreal hunched a little over his drink, still looking more like a huffy child than an angry adult.

“I didn’t think you’d stop. You kept pushing. You touched me.”

“But I did stop and I told you I was sorry. I’m trying to make it up to you, I feel bad enough about it as it is without you trying to make me seem like a worse person than I actually am.”

Ezreal bit his lip and looked down, kicking his legs under the table.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, face growing warm.

Draven sighed and shook his head.

“Whatever, it’s fine. I don’t want you thinkin’ that badly of me.”

“I….I don’t. I was just mad…” Ezreal managed to meet Draven’s eye and took his first swallow of the coffee just to give himself a reason to not have to talk for a moment. He felt silly for his behavior even if Draven had made him extremely uncomfortable the night before.

“If you don’t wanna talk to me anymore or whatever, I’ll understand.” Draven stood and moved to leave. Ezreal sat stunned for a brief moment until the door shut and then he was up, chasing the other man.

 

“H-Hey! Wait!” He grabbed Draven’s arm with his free hand, noting somewhere in his mind that it seemed to be turning into a bit of a habit. He was met with a sigh but the man stopped.

“I never said that!” Ezreal hissed, pursing his lips at the other man. 

“Sometimes that shit can just be inferred.”

“Not this time! Just because I was upset doesn’t mean I never wanna see you again you goob!” he punctuated the sentence with a punch to Draven’s side, though it was weak at best.

The choice of wording was enough to make him snort.

“Goob?” he repeated, unable to suppress the grin that spread over his face. It grew even more as he watched the blonde flush with embarrassment.

“Shut up!”

“You’re kinda cute.”

Ezreal sputtered at that, too flustered to manage a coherent response. He hunched into his jacket, holding tightly to his coffee and trotting off ahead of Draven. Smirking, the man followed behind, chuckling lowly.

“I hate you.” Ezreal grumped half-heartedly and this only made his companion laugh.

“Uh-huh. Sounds like it,” he replied with clear sarcasm, grinning brightly.

This was much better than he and Ezreal being on bad terms as they had been before and he had to admit he got a kick out of embarrassing the smaller man.

It was nice to interact with someone who wasn’t a mess like himself.


	8. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to or hints at sexual assault, nothing graphically described.

Draven: come get me right now please  
Ezreal: I’m not coming out this late to pick you up just cause you drank too much!  
Draven: no its not that i really need to get the fuck out of here please ez i will do anything  
Ezreal: What happened?  
Draven: dont wanna talk about it just come get me. Im in the club lot.  
Ezreal: ...I’ll be there asap.

Ezreal squinted against the light of the phone with tired eyes, the messages making his stomach knot. There was a horrible feeling in his gut and he knew better than to ignore it so he slipped out of the comfort of his bed and tugged on shoes. He charged out of the door in his sweatpants and t-shirt, not bothering to change into regular clothes--it was far too much of an emergency for that.

Shaking hands unlocked the car door and he settled heavily into the seat, hurriedly buckling in before starting the engine and pulling out--perhaps a little too quickly since his tires squealed. Five minutes was all it took, albeit driving at more than a few miles over the limit in some cases, to arrive at the club and he practically drifted into the parking lot. Brakes squeaked at the pressure of the sudden stop and Ezreal’s eyes flicked around for Draven.

His heart was in his throat when a hand slapped against his window and he was met with the distraught features of his friend. It was too dark to see a whole lot, but there was enough to show that Draven was afraid. The passenger door opened, Draven shoved in and urged Ezreal to drive.

The blonde obliged, trying to get a good look at the other man while he sped down the road. Eventually, he gave up on this, putting his focus where it needed to be so they wouldn’t wind up in an accident on the way back home. It took longer to get back, but he wasn’t rushing quite so much and when they pulled in at the apartment, he let out a sigh of relief as he shut the car off.

Once they were both out, blue eyes scanned over Draven’s form, noting the way he walked with a limp but it was still too dark outside for him to really get a good look. He waited until they were in the hall and then stopped before his door, hand on Draven’s arm to make him halt too, despite the fact he was clearly trying to beeline for his own apartment. Ezreal keyed the door open and tugged a reluctant Draven in with him, quickly shutting the door--and locking it-- behind them. Flicking on the living room light, Ezreal got his first glimpse of the damages.

There was some blood around Draven’s nose and mouth, suggesting a fight. His clothes seemed roughed up and torn in places, there was a bit of red staining the man’s clothes here and there. Brows furrowed at the stance the other held, almost as if curling into himself--hunched. 

“Look, I appreciate it. Thanks a ton but I really just...I-I want to go home and sleep okay?” Draven was stuttering, tripping over his words with a voice that wavered and eyes that were wide, almost feral, Ezreal would have said. Sapphire hues stared up at terrified jade ones, searching for answers that were not going to be willingly--if ever--given.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? Let me help clean you up and stuff--”

“No!” Draven retorted immediately, with much more force than intended as he headed towards the door, struggling to unlock it with his trembling hands. Soreness was evident in his body, the entirety of his frame protesting the treatment he had endured while his mind struggled to wrap around the concept of everything that had occurred. Shame was a blanket over his entire being but disbelief was a close second, suffocating him with a mixture of horror and fear.

He gave up on his escape when he realized his damn hands couldn’t even work the lock properly anymore.

“No. I’m fine. I just need to rest. I drank too much.” he said, lying blatantly as he kept his back turned to Ezreal. The blonde was far keener than that and crossed his arms, worry etched into his face. If Draven was unwilling to be helped, then what was he to do? Let him go? That didn’t seem like the right choice at all.

“Please? You look like shit, frankly. You can use my shower to get cleaned up and all. I’ll help with any injuries you have…you….you don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to…”

Draven felt a burning behind his eyes and sucked in a deep breath to try to shove back those unnecessary tears. Ezreal was trying to take care of him but the man knew he didn’t deserve it. He was a fucking mess of a human being, a stupid, drug-addicted mess. He probably did this to himself. Hands worked through dark hair as the thoughts raced through his head. Self-blame, shame, knowing it wasn’t his fault but fighting himself on it.

What had happened was mostly vindictive, he thought, a revenge scheme for his act of theft prior. Teeth sank into a yielding lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. A hand was on his arm and Draven jerked away and whipped around to face...Ezreal. It was just Ezreal. The blonde stared at him wide-eyed and clearly concerned. Glassy eyes met blue and Ezreal put his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“Come on...why don’t we uh...get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“Why are you being so fucking nice to me? Just fucking let me go like everyone else.” The words were out before Draven’s frazzled and damaged mind could reel them back and he cursed heavily afterward. Ezreal, at a loss and shocked by this sudden change, simply stood and stared. What was he to do?

Fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, a moment of debate. Ezreal closed the distance between them and threw his arms around Draven, burying his face in the man’s chest. He felt the tension of the larger man’s muscular frame, but he didn’t immediately pull away.

“Whatever happened...I….I’m here for you. It’ll be okay,” he whispered, gently squeezing Draven’s waist.

The sympathy proved too much for Draven whose exhausted body gave out on him. Knees buckled and he went down, taking Ezreal with him, who never let go. Broken sobs met the blonde’s ears and he snuggled closer against Draven, giving what comfort he could. Too tired to push Ezreal away or even return the affection, he simply sat limp in his grasp, crying the stress and trauma of the entire night’s events into Ezreal’s soft blonde hair.

It was hard to say how long they stayed like that, but Ezreal never once let Draven go.


	9. A Little Kindness Goes A Long Way

Ezreal jerked awake and found himself in his bed, entangled with another warm body. He was fairly certain that they hand't been near a bed at all, yet there they were. It took him a moment to remember the events of last night, eyes blinking rapidly as he looked at the man he was snuggled against. Draven looked worse than he remembered, bruised and battered like he had been in a bad fight. How he acted though, was not the way a person acted if they had just been in a brawl, it had to be something worse.

Jade eyes looked at him tiredly and the blonde realized that Draven hadn’t slept at all. Still sleepy, it was hard not to consider returning to sleep in the comfort of the other man’s arms, but he realized it would be selfish to do so when he was clearly suffering.

“Hey…” Ezreal’s voice came thick and hoarse, he blinked slowly, trying to force his body to wake up. It usually wasn’t this hard, but the events of the night before left him worn out. Just the same, an effort was made as he rose his body slightly and looked at his companion. 

Draven merely grunted in response and Ezreal could hear the gravel in his throat. Brows furrowed as he noted all the bruises he hadn’t seen before, trailing down even to the tanned flesh of his throat. Gentle and pale fingers traced over the skin as if fascinated, crystalline hues brimming with worry. And then he was being guided away from the marks, a large hand keeping his own smaller one at bay.

“‘M fine.” he murmured, but Ezreal’s look told him he didn’t believe it for even a moment. He cast his gaze aside, too ashamed of everything that had happened to meet that almost accusing glare. He hurt, everywhere. Moving felt like a chore and it was one he wasn’t willing to partake of in that moment. So he remained as he was, still and stiff, protests coming from places he didn’t even want to think about.

“You’re such a liar.” Ezreal huffed, lips pursing tightly as he rested his head against Draven’s shoulder and tried not to close his eyes, lest he fall back asleep. It was tempting, but he didn’t want to leave Draven alone any longer than he already had.

“Sorry for sleeping on you like that...I didn’t realize I was even that tired…” 

“No. Sorry for pullin’ you out of bed that early...and for everything else.”

“Shut up! Something happened to you, why are you acting like you’re a burden?” Ezreal couldn’t help but to raise his voice, jerking himself up partially, but still keeping himself nestled against Draven.

“You’re hurt. I can tell and it wasn’t just some stupid fight, either. I’m not blind!” Draven couldn’t believe Ezreal was getting this loud and emotional after only being awake less than five minutes. It took him far longer than that to wake up. “You don’t have to tell me but don’t fucking lie to my face, either. Admit you’re feeling bad. Admit you’re hurting. I can help you...maybe not a lot, but I can give you a nice breakfast, a hot shower, company, coffee…”

Ezreal let out a heavy sigh and slumped against Draven, earning a small wince from the man that he couldn’t see.

“‘M fine.” he tried again and the noise Ezreal responded with was a growl. Draven didn’t want to cause any more trouble than he already had and had Ezreal not fallen asleep atop him, he would have left hours ago. Suddenly Ezreal was above him, staring down with angry features.

“No you’re not! Have you looked in a mirror? You look like you got the shit beat out of you. But if it was just that, you wouldn’t be reacting like...like this!” His voice actually broke due to him pushing it too high in his upset and Draven puffed a soft laugh through his nose.

“Well, I am a pile of shit, so I guess it fits.” he muttered, closing his eyes to avoid the glare leveled at him. He gently urged Ezreal off and forced himself to his feet with a soft groan. “I should get goin’. I called into work already but...I wanna get out of your hair. Already caused you enough problems. In a familiar action, a hand grasped his wrist.

“You’re staying.”

“You can’t make me.”

“I can try! Stay for coffee and breakfast!”

“Not hungry. Just wanna go home and shower.”

Frustration burned Ezreal’s stomach and he felt himself embarrassingly tearing up from his worry for the other man and his anger at how little response he could get. He wracked his mind for any way to get Draven to relent, but words escaped him when he was so worked up. Draven knew it wasn’t fair of him to make the blonde even more upset, but he wanted to leave and keep away from...everyone. 

“Fine,” Ezreal whispered, letting go dejectedly and clenching his fists against the bedsheets. Draven made the mistake of glancing back at him and he hesitated, feeling guilt at causing yet more strife. His breath spilled out of his nose in a sigh.

“Look, I appreciate it, okay? You’ve done a lot for me, too much. More than I deserve. I just need a little time to myself, alright? It’s...nothin’ against you. I really do appreciate what you do for me. Give me a little me time, yeah?”

Ezreal looked at him with those big blue eyes and Draven felt like he was being subtly manipulated by the sight. 

“Okay…” the blonde said but it was in a tone that was slightly pouty. It brought the smallest twinge of a smile to Draven’s lips. He reached out and ruffled a hand through that soft golden mop of hair.

“You’re very cuddly, by the way. Didn’t think you were the type.”

This earned a blush and Ezreal huffed.

“Shut up.”

Draven didn’t chuckle like he normally would have but he did shrug.

“Only speakin’ the truth. I’m heading back over to my apartment. If you really have to check on me, just text. I’ll let you know if I need somethin’.” Draven was walking towards the bedroom door as he spoke and Ezreal slunk out of bed, knowing he was fibbing to him as he followed him to the living room.

“See ya.” Draven slipped out of the door and went to his own home, sinking to the floor almost as soon as he was in, his back forcing the door shut. Relief mixed with all the other intense emotions and the man found himself overwhelmed, but forced his body to its feet and spent the next thirty minutes under a rather warm shower.

Ezreal knew there was more to what had happened and thought over all possibilities. Only one really stood out to him but he didn’t want to think that that was the truth.


	10. Time For Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of an injury and blood. Nothing too detailed.

It was early and Ezreal felt groggy as he dressed himself and readied to head out into the relatively quiet hours of dawn. He liked his work but sometimes it required him to be up at odd hours for the sake of delivering his product at a certain time and due to his own paranoia, he’d be up earlier still just to avoid any accidents. Keys jingled as they twirled around a restless finger and steps carried out into the hallway. The door was securely locked behind him and a palm pressed to tired eyes in an attempt to rub some of that drowsiness out of them. 

They blinked and squinted at an odd spot on the floor. Brows furrowed and knees bent into a crouch, Ezreal lowered himself to get a better look. The flooring was a nice brown hardwood and there were splotches of still semi-wet red on it. His mind seemed to start up all at once, alertness jarring him out of his dazed state and his eyes flicked around, searching for more. The trail led straight to Draven’s apartment.

Faster than he could comprehend himself moving, Ezreal cleared the few feet that separated their rooms and knocked at the door hurriedly. When he got no response, he tried the knob and was startled when it yielded under his fingers, leaving the entryway open. He darted into the room, closing the door behind him, almost slamming it shut. Draven would surely know that someone was in his house.

“Who’s there?” the man called out, making Ezreal jump a little. He recovered fast and followed the sound to the bathroom where he burst in without any care of privacy. Wide jade eyes greeted him but Ezreal’s gaze was locked onto the amount of blood spattered over the tub’s shiny white surface. The wound seemed to be on his side and Draven was attempting, with little luck, to bind the injury. Again, without thought, the blonde moved forward and pulled hands away from the poorly done wrappings, peeling it all away to reveal the problem itself.

It was a small gash in his side, but looked deep and bled profusely. Ezreal tugged a towel from the rack and pushed it against the wound, holding it tightly even when Draven hissed and twitched away.

“I’m fine, I got this...just...go home.” Draven said weakly, knowing by the determined glare he got that Ezreal had little to no plans of ever leaving him be in the state he was in.

“You’re bleeding everywhere! Don’t you ‘I’m fine’ me!” Ezreal growled, pressing on the cut more and earning a small whine.

“Careful!”

“I’m trying to stop the bleeding, you goob! You could bleed to death! Why aren’t you in a hosptial?!”

“Uh...Can’t afford it.” Draven responded quickly and desperately, hoping that Ezreal would not press any further.  
But of course he did.

“I’ll pay. Let’s just get you to a hospital. We have no idea how bad this injury is and I don’t want you to die.” he was no longer yelling, his tone falling into something a lot more calm and neutral. Ezreal was focused.

“I can’t go...just let me stay here. I’ll be fine.”

“Shut up. You’re going. Right fucking now, even if I have to drag you or call them to come get you.” he was reluctant to force Draven up since he didn’t know how deep the wound was or if moving would make it worse.

“I can’t! I can’t fucking go! You don’t understand!” Draven almost yelled, wanting to push away from the blonde but being unable to do so since he was cornered in the tub.

“Then explain it to me.” 

“I can’t...I just...can’t.”

“You have to. I am not going to sit here and have you die because you’re being stubborn.”

Draven seemed taken aback and then his gaze dropped.

“I’m too drunk.”

“That’s not an excuse. What’s going on? You need help, Draven! I don’t want you to get infection and die.”

Draven gritted his teeth, unable to look at Ezreal.

“Just leave. Get out of my house.”

“Or what, you’ll call the cops? And you think the cops will ignore the fact you have a fucking stab wound?”

“...”

“Tell me what is going on.”

Draven hesitated, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t lie, there was no excuse that would get the blonde off his back. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, head lowering.

“I can’t go to the hospital because they’ll find drugs in my system.” he whispered, shoulders slacking as he submitted to the shame that came with the admission. It was easy to ignore it most of the time, since the drugs made him feel good but it was painful to face the truth of what he was and what he was doing.

Ezreal paused and took the time to register those words. On one hand, they were unsurprising. He drank and acted really odd after he had been out at the club. It also explained the constant in and outs of people in Draven’s apartment and some of the violent situations Ezreal had had to diffuse.

“I’d say I’m surprised but it actually explains a lot.” Ezreal murmured, wanting to comfort Draven more than any of those drugs ever could but knowing now wasn’t the best time when he was still trying to stifle the bleeding. He sighed, worry gnawing at his gut. He wasn’t sure how bad the wound was and he chewed his lip nervously.

Draven was quiet now, brooding on his life.

“Alright...so...we’ll get you better, then.” Ezreal said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He gently eased the towel away to get a better look at the injury, noting how the bleeding had relatively stopped and now that he could look at the wound, he could see it wasn’t quite as bad as initially perceived. The depth was maybe an inch or two, stopped by the ribs if he had to fathom a guess. It did look like it needed stitches though, which he didn’t have the needed tools on hand.

He commanded Draven to stay put as if he would move to begin with and disappeared from the apartment for a few minutes. When Ezreal returned, he clutched a small bag in his hand and settled himself on the edge of the tub.

“So...this isn’t exactly proper procedure, but I’ve used it before and it works well enough.” Ezreal said, digging through the bag to pull out cloths and a bottle of something clear. He soaked the cloth and cleaned the wound, causing some squirming and hissing on Draven’s end. Once it was cleaned and dried he withdrew yet another bottle, this one quite small.

“So...I’m gonna superglue it closed, basically. Sounds fucked up, but I’ve done it before and it works pretty good. And it’s a lot better than me getting out the sewing needles.” Ezreal said, examining the size of the wound and calculating just how well his wild plan would work.

“...guess it’s better than getting arrested.” Draven said, uncertainly. He watched Ezreal push the edges of the wound together and seal them with a thin coating of the glue. He waited a number of minutes and then tapped it to ensure it was dry before patching a bit of gauze over it.

Ezreal breathed out slowly and gave Draven a very serious look.

“We’re getting you off the drugs. And there’s no argument in the world you can give to stop me. No more of this. No more getting hurt, no more suffering, no more being unable to get help.”

Draven would have argued but Ezreal’s glare stopped him. 

He didn’t think the days ahead would be easy.


	11. Just A Little More

Everyday Ezreal was at Draven’s apartment, encouraging him on the path to recovery. Every night and every time the blonde had to leave or Draven himself had to work, he dosed. Only in the presence of his friend did he truly abstain from drugs and even then it was somewhat of a struggle not to have at least a small amount in his system. For the most part, it had become such a standard in the man’s life that he didn’t always show symptoms unless he was well and truly high. 

He thought it would be easy to continue on this path, after all, most times he and Ezreal met--aside from those small occasions where he had had to call the blonde to retrieve him--he was not ever fully blasted. In fact, aside from those times and if he had not said anything, the other had seemed all but oblivious to it.

However, his weeks of slipping his doses in during absences of either of them came to a head when Ezreal showed up on his doorstep far sooner than expected. He left the door unlocked, as he sometimes did if he was expecting someone and in came the blonde, bags in hand just in time to catch Draven with the ziplock of pills.

There was a long silence as each stared in frozen shock at the other. Draven was trying to sort excuses out of the apologies and Ezreal was trying to comprehend the fact that his friend had been lying to him for well over a month. He had even feigned the sickness that came with withdrawals, or, the younger man came to realize, perhaps he was just extremely drugged or drunk.

Only barely did the blonde manage to keep his fingers from releasing the food he had brought onto the floor, keeping a good grasp on the bags. No point in wasting it over a surprise he should have seen coming. Lips pursed, brows furrowed and Draven waited to be told how useless and stupid he was. Waited to be pushed out of yet another person’s life because they had thought they could save him and had no clue just how deep in he really was.

His expression was resigned and he couldn’t meet those blue eyes. The yelling never came, though, nor did the punches or the slam of a door. A flicker of confusion brought jade eyes up to Ezreal’s face, only for immediate regret to follow. Draven wasn’t sure he had ever seen such disappointment in someone’s eyes before but it wasn’t just that, it was the total lack of anger that he had expected. It was the sadness.

Ezreal settled the bags down on the table and walked up to Draven shakily. He shoved his hands into the man’s chest and though it barely budged him, it made him step back. Small but determined hands snatched the tiny baggie and skipped enough steps away that when the taller man finally reacted, it was far too late and he was grasping at air.

The blonde held it up, shook it, his features contorted in distress.

“I can’t believe you.” Draven flinched as though Ezreal yelled but it was a trembling, almost whisper, that met his ears. 

“You faked sickness? I thought you were getting better. I thought we were working through this.” Those knuckles turned white as they clutched the plastic, nails nearly tearing through it. 

“I…’M sorry.” was all Draven could say to those distraught blue eyes. Shame burned his core and his own eyes fell, unable to keep maintaining contact. To have caused Ezreal this much hurt wasn’t his intent, but his addiction was not easily shaken. He would have rather had the blonde be angry and yell than be this quiet and sad.

“Goddammit, why? I said I’d pay for rehab if you wanted, I’d help you get work. I’d help you get a job...turn your life around so you could be happy.” The words were stuttered through trembling lips an Ezreal tried his best to suppress the thickness growing in his throat. Fingers shook and he kept those filthy drugs in his hand, holding onto them as if confiscating them would save Draven from his own path to self-destruction.

“You shouldn’t do that, ‘M not worth that much. I told you before.”

“And I told you-you were. I told you I didn’t care. I told you I would help you anyway. So you were just going around behind my back and doing this?” His voice became more and more uneven as he spoke, the struggle to even keep talking was incredibly obvious.

“I-I know it’s a lot of money or whatever...I know it’s hard. I know it sucks. I know. B-But...I just wanted you to try.” Ezreal’s voice broke, cracking in the middle of the sentence and Draven’s eyes flicked up to see those blue irises gleaming with tears. These were soon streaking down his face and the man found himself stunned. Sure, people had cried before but usually, they had gotten angry first. He didn’t know what to do with this and it made him feel awful.

His heart hurt watching the blonde try to stifle those tears and he didn’t have any clue as to how to react.

Ezreal inhaled sharply, but the tears wouldn’t stop and his face was hot with embarrassment as a hand rose to wipe them away as fast as they came. Breaths came in painful bouts when the blonde kept his sobs down, reducing them to small and stuttered gasps. Palms pressed to eyes and he let out a desperate whine.

Draven partially reached out, then hesitated, unsure as to whether or not Ezreal even wanted to be touched.

“Look...I…” he stopped, knowing he couldn’t say anything to relieve the situation. So he acted, instead, approaching Ezreal and tugging him into a hug. Draven felt the tension in the smaller form but just as quickly as it came, it faded and hands were clutching at his back, the pills dropped onto the floor. Ezreal openly sobbed into Draven’s chest and the man had never felt so much guilt before. He had hurt the blonde enough to break down and that realization alone made him outright ashamed.

“F-Fucking idiot.” Ezreal forced out, clearly struggling to speak in the midst of his sobbing. He weakly batted his fists against the man’s chest, sniffing every so often. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” 

“I know…” Draven replied simply, holding the blonde tighter so he could no longer hit at him, a hand burying in wild hair. The strands were soft beneath his fingers and he stroked them gently.

He had no idea how to begin apologizing for the whole mess.


	12. A Good Start

Once again, Ezreal awoke, tangled with Draven’s body, feeling sore and exhausted. He didn’t remember falling asleep or even being tired, he just remembered breaking down. Not too long ago, the situation had been reversed, it was almost funny. Shifting, he moved to look at Draven, wanting to see his face. He was asleep, unlike the last time they awoke in bed together. Waking him seemed like a bad idea when he looked so peaceful and perhaps wasn’t being dragged down by his constant struggles with drugs and self-esteem.

Blue eyes scanned the features that had become so familiar to him, the heavy jawline, slight lips, and shapely eyes. The color of them was even more catching, but unfortunately, Draven’s slumber kept the lovely jade hues from Ezreal’s sight. Gently, with caution, the younger man rested a hand against Draven’s cheek, thumbing over the sharp angle of the bone. He was thinner than the blonde remembered, the bones standing out just a touch more than they should have.

A sigh spilled from parted lips and Ezreal dropped his tousled head back to Draven’s chest, nuzzling into him. He had never really been one to cuddle before, or perhaps, it was merely the fact he had never had the chance to. He was finding he quite enjoyed the warmth of another person’s body. Slender limbs wrapped around as much of the larger man’s body as could be reached and clung to him. He was just getting settled into sleep once more when the jarring tone of a screaming alarm made him jolt back awake with a gasp. 

Draven was snatched from sleep just as quickly and attempted to sit up, but was weighted by Ezreal’s body halfway atop his. Groaning, the brunette worked a hand down his face then nudged the blonde to hint that he needed his freedom, even if he thought it was cute that Ezreal was so snuggled against him. The young artist relented, slipping back to allow Draven to rise. A heavy sigh emptied out of him.

“I guess I’m going to have to quit work, then.” he murmured groggily, fingerpads gently rubbing over his eyes as he tried to coax himself into full wakefulness. Part of Draven was resentful that Ezreal was about to make him suffer such an unpleasant recovery process, even if the end might be better than his current situation. It put his life at a standstill and put him at a disadvantage. No longer would he have income and in the meantime, he’d be suffering a horrible detox, sick and desperate. He groaned.

“I wish you’d just give up on me, already.” he groused, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rising to his feet. The younger of the two pouted his lips out and rustled from the sheets, scratching his scalp absently.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ll thank me later. You can stay here with me. I’ll be able to afford it and when the time comes, I’ll help you find a new and better job.” Ezreal said, his tone suggesting that he wasn’t leaving room for arguments and he had been thinking about this for quite awhile.

“You sure you ready to deal with this? I’m going to get moody, I’ll probably be an asshole to you.” Draven was trying to talk Ezreal out of it, to just go back to his normal life--shitty as it was--and not have to worry about any of this mess that the blonde was insisting on. A hard smack on his arm told him that arguing was nigh pointless and he turned to look at Ezreal. Blue eyes glared back at him, resolved and sincere.

“I know you don’t like it because it makes you feel helpless, but it’s just for awhile. It’s just until you get better.”

IF I get better, Draven thought.

Ezreal embraced him for the third time in a handful of days and Draven could only sigh, completely at a loss as to how someone could care this much for a deadbeat like himself.

He didn’t argue.

Ezreal thought that was a good start.


End file.
